Dear Daddy Lambert
by Anima Hunter
Summary: Ana knows what day it is... The day he was cruelly taken away. See how she - and Christian - react to the sour remembrance.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Daddy Lambert

My eyes unwillingly fight open. I feel groggy, trying to get my eyes to focus on the surroundings of Christian Grey's bedroom. I sigh heavily, and roll onto my side. Christian is lying beside me, draping his arms and legs over me. I've almost become used to his too-hot temperature. Almost. My mind scrabbles slowly, random pixels flying around my numb head. Then I remember what day it is.I stiffen, the thought depressing every cell in my body. I feel Christian stur next to me as he begins to wake.

" Good morning, Mrs. Grey. Sleep well?" He says in a muted yet joyful tone. I forget to react to his question; lost in the fog of deep thoughts. I feel him sit up, leaning on his elbow. He leans slightly over me, tucking some hair behind my ear. He looks down to me, his Grey eyes curious and concerned.

" Ana?" He asks, now more seriousness in his voice. I manage to drag myself from the zone I'm lost in, turning onto my back.

" I'm fine." I say, but my voice gives my anguish away. Christian is now sitting right up, gazing down at me with worried eyes. Somewhere inside me thinks I shouldn't tell him. I don't want to. I feel traces of guilt for keeping this away from him, but I can't urge the words out of my mouth. I get up slowly, heading for the bathroom. Christian follows, his briefs hanging beautifully from his hips. I shake my head mentally, not wanting to go there today. I begin to brush my teeth, seeing Christian's reflection staring at me in the mirror. His arms are crossed and he's leaning casually against the door frame. His eyes focus hard on my face, and I can see he's trying hard to read me. There is a sudden knock on the bedroom door and Christian instantly goes to answer it. I hear Mrs Jones's gentle voice.

" It's Carla Steele on the phone for Mrs. Grey." She says, her tone slightly patronising. I wonder why her voice worries me. Christian walks into the bathroom, his eyes now very confused. He wordlessly passes me the phone as I put it to my ear.

" Mom?" I can hear her sobbing uncontrollably and my heart melts. This happens every year.

" Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry, I keep hoping it'll get easier but-" She begins to sob again, and the rest of her sentence is incomprehensible. Christian's wide eyes look at me, and I suddenly feel anxious. I walk out the room and head towards the library, my mothers sobs continuing. As I walk in, I turn to shut the door. Christian stands at the end of the hall, looking bewildered. I shut the door and prepare myself to face my mother.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Daddy Lambert

" I know Mom, I know. I miss him to." My voice cracks. My heart starts to ache as the familiar feeling starts to dawn on me.

" He held you once. God, he was so proud of you Ana." My Mom whimpers down the phone. Her meaningful words break the barrier keeping my tears in, and they begin to stream down my face. I try to hold in my sobbing, my breathing becoming rigid. The thought of my Daddy in a marine combat outfit made my heart swell agonisingly large.

" Frank was such a good man." She continues to sob. I pull the phone away from my ear a moment, my other hand covering my mouth in horror. I squeeze my eyes shut, the burning sensation of tears running down my cheeks. I couldn't bear this. It _doesn't_ get easier.

Eventually my Mom calms down, only sniffling slightly.

" You know what they say..." She says, her voice hoarse.

" The good ones go first." I hear her smile down the phone, regaining her self control. I however, still continue to cry silently. We say our goodbyes, and a huge relief flows through me. I hang up, and release the sobs that I'd been holding in the whole time. They came violently, a tornado ripping through my chest. I curl up onto the sofa - still wearing Christian's shirt- and bury my head into my knees. I wrap my arms around my legs, forming into a tight, isolated ball. The pain is intolerable_. Today is the day Daddy was taken away from me. He's never coming back_. These horrible thoughts flow through my head, making me cry harder. Faint screams of agony push through my sobs, as I clench my teeth helplessly. I don't know how much time I sit crying, my heart free-falling endlessly.

I lift my head up, my face hurting. I can feel the sticky, dry tears on my face and Christian's shirt is dampened. As my head raises, I notice Christian standing at the door. His expression is cool, but his eyes scream with worry. I sniff weakly, uncurling slightly from my ball.

" How long..." I begin to ask, as he slowly walks towards me. He sits gently on the seat next to me, pulling me onto his lap. He cradles me in his warm arms, and I start feeling alive again.

" I was there for the last few minutes, watching you cry." He says, his voice velvet-soft. We both sit there wordlessly, as he uses his thumb to stoke my cheek delicately. After a long silence, I hear him sigh gently.

" Ana, please. I hate seeing you like this. Tell me." I hear the desperation in his voice, buried under his gentle tone. I release a shaky breath, and slowly climb off his lap. I take his hand and lead him out the room. He wordlessly follows me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as we walk down the hall. As we reach his bedroom, I let go of his hand. He stands wearily at the door, watching me like a hawk. I walk around to my side of the bed, sitting on my knees on the floor. I reach underneath and pull out an old, black duffel bag. I sit on the bed, placing the duffel bag down. Christian walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes analysing the bag. I cross my legs and unzip the bag carefully. I pause a moment, then start to retrieve the items in its compartment.

I lay each item out on the bed, letting Christian absorb the information. He gingerly picks up a small photo and brings it close to his face. He stares at it in great detail, his eyebrows dipping slightly. He lowers the picture and looks at me, his face relaxed.

" This is you? And your father?" He asks, through he knows the answer. I nod in response, looking down at my knotted fingers. He places the picture down and picks up another object. He holds a black, dusty beret in his hand, examining it closely. He rotates it, looking at the small badge sewn onto it. He doesn't look at me, placing the beret back down. Lastly, he picks up a tattered old letter. My heart beats harder in my ears. I glance over, reading it silently along with him.

_My dear Anastasia,_

_I'm sorry I can't be there for you the day after your birth. Believe me, I want to be. As I write this, you're asleep in an incubator, fast asleep. You have my nose-sorry kiddo. But you're also very beautiful - you get that from your mother. _

_I'll see you soon. We have many, many good years to look forward to together my darling baby girl. I'll be thinking of you while I'm away, anxious to hold you again._

_I love you Anastasia Rose._

_All my love, Franklin Lambert ( Your very proud Daddy)_

Christian re-reads the letter and I slump against my pillow. I feel myself tearing up again. I know that letter off by heart...how can it still have this effect on me? Christian places the letter down and finally looks me in the eyes. His are warm and understanding, and I feel the urge to hug him. I put the objects slowly back into the bag, saying a bitter-sweet goodbye to them...until next year. I put the bag under the bed, and shyly crawl over to Christian. He instantly wraps his arms around me, pulling my head onto his strong chest.

" Sweet, beautiful Ana. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice sounds slightly hurt. I blush, feeling foolish for such a crappy decision on my part. Why didn't I tell him?

" It's not something I find easy to talk about. Especially with you." The last part rolls off my tongue before I can stop it. I feel Christian tense and I can tell I've offended him. _Oops._

" Especially me?" He repeats my words, the pain in his voice clear. I sit up, looking at his face. His eyebrows have slopped and he looks like a lost child. I franticly try to think of some way to atone for my words.

" No, I don't mean it like that. It's just...I've never talked to anyone about him before. Not really." I admit, the words making sense to my inner self. I feel a slight weight lift off my chest as Christian relaxes. He pulls me back down to his chest, stroking my hair gently.

" So...tell me about him." Christian says coolly. _Oh_.

" You really want to know? Or are you doing this to make me feel less crappy?" I ask him sourly. It comes out more venomous that I intended it to. He politely ignores it, a small smile forming from his lips.

" No, Ana. I'm genuinely intrigued." He says simply, making me feel slightly better.

" I love knowing what makes you tick, Mrs. Grey. I love _you_." He says passionately. I nuzzle to his chest, feeling a new wave of something over me. I feel...freed? We talk for a long period of time, as I share with him the many stories my Mom has told me about him.

" Apparently whilst Mom was pregnant with me, Frank drew funny faces on her bump." I giggle, and his care-free laugh synchronises with mine. We both sigh and our burning conversation slows down.

" Why do you call him Frank?" Christian suddenly asks, taking me by surprise. I have to think about my answer for a moment.

" I Guess I've grown up with calling Ray my Dad. He's the one who's raised me and taught me everything I know. It made more sense to me, I suppose." Christian accepts my answer in silence and we both lay silently on the bed.

" Thank you." I whisper, feeling Christian move slightly under me.

" What for?" He asks, his voice slightly amused. I smile and kiss his chest, his gorgeous smell invading my senses.

" For listening." I say simply. He kisses the top of my head, and we both drift off into a calmer, peaceful place.


End file.
